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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910724">Christmas With The Family</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter'>CaptainJimothyCarter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompt Fics [65]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, First Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Odin's Bad Parenting (Marvel), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Thor (Marvel), Stubborn Steve Rogers, This was done at 3am, Thundershield - Freeform, Unbeta'd, We Die Like Men, no edit, stevethor, writer doesnt know shit about norway or customs or blacksmith so i do apologize</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Steve's first Christmas with Thor's parents and anything that can go wrong does go wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Thor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompt Fics [65]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Christmas With The Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listen, I know nothing of Norway. Or blacksmithing. I tried to avoid writing so much detail into it but some stuff my brain wouldn't let go.</p><p>So I do apologize for like any of the stuff I got wrong. I tried to research stuff. </p><p>It's also a drabble/ficlet/not to be taken seriously so here yah go.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He shouldn’t have said yes. Everything in him told him to say no, to give some bullshit excuse, and run for the hills but Steve knew he couldn’t do that. Christmas was an important holiday to Thor. He was an excited puppy for the holidays and even more excited to bring his new boyfriend to his parents. It’s not that Steve didn’t love Thor, because he did, but he was always shit at meeting parents. Every parent who’s met him had hated him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>reason, rather it was because he didn’t just bend over backward to kiss their asses, refused to partake in terrible, hurtful jokes, or because he was only 5’4 and 94 pounds, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wasn’t good enough for their child.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor clearly thought he was good enough, so that’s all that mattered. He assured him time and time again that his mother loved him and his father just sort of shrugged it all off and while that sounded hurtful, Thor assured it was a good thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Steven?” Thor whispered in the blonde’s ear, his breath tickling his ear. It made Steve shiver and rub furiously at his ear to try to get it to stop. “You are looking a little green.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve tried to shrug it off but Thor wasn’t having that. He, instead, gave Steve that pointed look and the little blonde just huffed. “Not really. I don’t enjoy flying. I haven’t had the best experiences flying. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>happens.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happens that makes it so miserable? Flying is a joy to have.” His arm threw around his shoulders, pulling Steve flushed to his side, not like he wasn’t just about not sitting in Thor’s lap at this point. “You visit your mother a lot, yes? She lives in...in…” His brow pinched as he tried to remember and the look was the most adorable thing to Steve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“California. She wanted to move somewhere warm.” His hands dropped to his lap to fiddle with the necklace he wore, one that Thor had made him from his very own blacksmith shop on his father’s land. It was a beautiful ruins necklace that in Thor’s words were meant to protect him and provided Steve with the knowledge that he was loved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was beautiful and Steve cherished it, it became his habit to twist it between his fingertips when he was nervous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, yes, I do. Doesn’t meant something doesn’t happen, because it does. One time the airport lost all my luggage, meaning I lost valuable trinkets and clothes, even my medicine. Another time my flight was delayed by two days because of a storm, once I got lost in an airport, and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was silenced by Thor turning his head to look at him, a gentle press of their lips made him sigh softly. Alright, he got the point, he was just rambling now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If something does happen, we will handle it together, okay?” He plucked the necklace from Steve’s fingers and pressed his lips to the runes before letting it drop. “You will be safe flying with me. We’re just going home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Home. You-you make it sound like it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump. It’s a ten-hour flight, Thor!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man’s little smile didn’t reassure him much either. “Eighteen, little one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The correction just made Steve’s head thump against Thor’s chest, groaning even more as their flight was called to board. He hated this - he hated every single second of this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I promise,” Thor murmured into his ear once they’d boarded the plane and lead Steve to their private seats. “It won’t be so bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, maybe...maybe Thor did have a point. As far as flights go, this wasn’t so bad. It was almost calming and as long as he didn’t look out the window or </span>
  <em>
    <span>think, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then really he forgot that he was flying even. Thor did provide great distraction by loving on him, bringing his laptop so they could watch a few movies together. Even remembering to bring Steve’s sketchbook so he could work on a few projects for the bakery while they were in the air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until around hour eight that thought hit Steve. Everyone around them was asleep or almost asleep. If he craned his neck, he could see over the private curtain to were a few folks were still reading by the low light above them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Thor,” he breathed, catching his boyfriend’s attention from where he was deeply in some book on the history of submarines. “What exactly...is Christmas like with your family?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d never given himself a moment to think what Christmas was like with Thor. Did they have traditions? Were they different from what was in America? Did Frigga and Odin partake in some long-family tradition that started long before they were kids? Was it different from the few Christmasses that Thor had experienced in America?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor smiled as he closed his book and leaned across the seating to look at his boyfriend. His eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled, his head tilted so it leaned onto his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re in for an experience, Steven,” he purred, taking Steve’s sketchbook to set it aside in favor of taking both of his boyfriend’s hands. “There are traditions that we follow, that we grew up with. The same as yours and your mother and baking certain goods or lighting candles and delivering presents. Ours is kind of the same. Tonight, we will decorate our tree before we feast, mother will bake gingerbread cookies, and we’ll eat rice pudding. There’s a fun tradition if you get the portion with the almond in it, you win a prize. Normally it’s a pig made of marzipan but in our family, it’s a small dagger with our family’s crest on it. I normally help Father make them in the shop. He has a few he makes for special people in our lives that we give out and they do as they want with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We feast on lamb, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ribbe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>even </span>
  <em>
    <span>lutefisk.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> At Steve’s confused look, Thor’s face opened up with an even wider smile. “It is an acquired taste, I have found. It is cod that has been cured. I assure you that you will love this feast, I have already informed mother of your preferred tastes and allergies. She has assured that there will be no problem.” He raised Steve’s hand to lips, gracing his knuckles with a soft kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After the feast,” Thor continued, “After a feast, my family likes to go about to our neighbors and friends, spreading the meals we’ve cooked to others. We exchange gifts and open ours that night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was a lot to take in, more than Steve had expected. He knew the importance of Thor’s history and the traditions his family grew up in, he knew how much it meant to him, but the reality of this </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole </span>
  </em>
  <span>situation was finally hitting him at full force.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was going to see Thor’s family, in another country.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you are worrying again,” Thor purred, drawing Steve out of his thoughts. The smaller blonde blinked as he found himself suddenly in the bigger man’s lap, head tucked comfortably along his chest. “Your brow wrinkles when you are thinking too hard. Do not worry, Steven, my family will love you. My mother already loves you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t Frigga Steve worried about, it was Odin. At one point, he knew how much Odin had controlled Thor, attempted to get Thor to stay in the family business of working with the blacksmiths, but the Odinson brothers had wanted to explore the world. It was very clear how much Odin hated that idea but he’d never go against his wife’s wishes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could only hope Frigga could talk sense into her husband.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re here,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Frigga purred the second their car had stopped on the edge of a frozen property. She was already waiting on the porch, ignoring the frigid cold air as she waltzes to the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was, as Steve had remembered seeing in photos and videos, beautiful women with her hair done in elegant braids. Her dress shimmered around her as if it was some illusion and not truly there at all. Steve could see where Thor got his smile from, he saw it on Frigga’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After hugging Thor, she walked around to help Steve out of the passenger side and hugged him. She was warm and smelled of herbs and spices. She planted a kiss on his temple as she pulled them back, holding Steve at arm’s length. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are welcomed in our home anytime,” she purred to him, cupping Steve’s face with her fingertips. They were surprisingly warm despite the cold running through him. “I hope we can make you at home, Steven. I’m so very glad you can join us - it’s all Thor has talked about. Now...let’s get you inside. You’re shivering - you’re not used to this sort of cold, you poor thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned back to her son, watching him hoist the bags out of the car. “Thor, darling, your old room is made up. Loki will be hereafter Christmas, dear, there’s been  hold up at his new job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The house was warm, welcoming. Herbs hung by a large fireplace to try out, giving the house a wonderful smell. A pot was boiling on the stovetop, a wood fire oven was already in use, warming the house up to a temperature Steve could feel the icicles melting from his nose. His feet tingled as he was lead through the welcoming home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need any help?” He asked Frigga, stopping to look into the kitchen. He could see both ovens in use, a timer going off, and Frigga tsking as she ran to open the oven door and inspect the meat inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Help? No, no, darling, this is our job to welcome you as a guest. You do not need to lift a finger,” she assured the small blonde. “You will just need to relax. I am sure you must be tired after your flight. Thor, darling, why don’t you show Steve the rest of the house, hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor’s hand was back in Steve’s, having to almost physically drag him away from the kitchen. He knew that’s where Steve shined, especially with baked goods, but the man needed to rest. The house was on the older side, Thor had told him, having been in their family for generations. There was a pleasant mix of old and new, such as the brick fire ovens, the fireplaces, the carvings on a few of the walls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor’s bedroom was a delight, the bed had been made up and the goof was excited to show Steve the pellets of fur he slept on despite the covers. Pellets that had been in the family for generations. “Tonight,” he mused, laying Steve back on the surprisingly soft covers. “You will help us pick out a tree when Father and I go out to retrieve one while mother finishes up dinner. You can stay if you wish, but I assure you mother will not let you help her. She’s insistent you are our guest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His nose huffed into Steve’s hair, curling around the blonde. “I told you that she’d love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that him?” Steve heard a deeper, gruffer voice that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>his boyfriend’s ask. He blinked as he stepped into the dying sunlight that lit up the forge. Already Odin was walking gruffly around to flip on a few more lights and to check on a few boxed items. His back was to Steve and the blonde got the feeling that Odin wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bastard. He didn’t miss how disappointed the father was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes turned to where Thor stood, his hair tied back into a high ponytail and currently shirtless for whatever reason Steve couldn’t decide. He wasn’t complaining - the man was...utterly attractive and it was hard to pull his eyes away from the sheen of sweat that covered his chiseled muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seriously, how was he fucking real?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s Steve, father,” Thor said in a firm voice, pulling away from a piece of leather he was working on. “This is my boyfriend - you knew he was coming. Mother told you, I told you. Steve…” He waved his hand for the blonde to get closer and smiled as Steve tucked himself into his side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you sleep, little one?” The calloused fingers trailed up Steve’s face, wiping away a bit of sleep that clung to his eye. “You snored.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did not,” Steve grumbled, a flush coming over his cheeks. “I slept </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderfully </span>
  </em>
  <span>in your bed.” His baby blue eyes flashed to Odin, the man still having his back to them. “What are you working on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if he was brought back to the present, Thor whipped his wrist so an old sheet covered up whatever laid on the table. All Steve saw was leather and pages that looked to be hand made, a frown tugging on his lips. Thor kissed it away and made Steve just sink into him with a soft sigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just finishing up something for father. We should get going if we want to find a good tree, hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throwing on his shirt and taking a hat that rested on a peg, the giant blonde stuffed it onto Steve’s head and smiled as he fixed the ears so it was firmly over Steve’s head. He kissed the tip of his nose and smirked when Odin walked by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be outside in a minute,” the father grumbled, still avoiding looking at Steve. “Don’t give away our family secrets, Thor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He hates me,” Steve sighed as they slowly walked through the thick snow to get to the front of the house. He saw a garden outback, protected by a greenhouse. It was Frigga’s pride and joy, Steve could already tell that from how much of the products were used in her cooking now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hates you? No, no, little one. Father does not hate you. If he hates you, then you and I wouldn’t be here. We’d be back home, celebrating Christmas with our friends. He just...doesn’t understand. He will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor smiled warmly at Steve, in a way that felt like this smile was only for him. His smile melted his heart and washed away any lingering anxiety and worries he had over impressing a father. It was clear, no matter what Odin thought, Frigga still loved him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was more than enough for Steve.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trek to find a tree was a long one, even on the snowmobiles, they had to trek on foot for a few minutes. At some point, despite his insistent falling, Thor had to carry Steve on his back just to get up the side of the hill. Steve complained the entire time, but Thor was used to his insistent, overconfident bravery that got him into a heap of trouble. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” Steve grumbled. “I can walk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You fell fifteen times in the last ten minutes. The snow is up to your calves, little one. I can carry you. Besides, we need you to find a tree, and I rather not like my boyfriends frozen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Odin sniffed at that one, but Steve ignored it in favor of searching the trees that surrounded them. He didn’t understand this - every tree looked the same to him. Why would they not just pick one of these trees, load it up and go back inside where it’s warm?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to spend so much time in this cold. Not that he didn’t like it, it’s just the almost pitch-black darkness that was lit up purely by the moon and stars, and whatever flashlights they had, had him on edge. Call him a city boy or whatever, but his limited vision put him on edge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve frowned as Thor stopped them, feeling the man take in a deep breath of the fresh, clean air. He blinked as he looked around at the surrounding trees. They were nice, covered in heaps of snow so their branches were weighed down. One was about half the size of the mountainous trees around them. It almost reminded Steve of himself, how it leaned slightly and a few branches were threatening to break off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He suddenly understood this search.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This beautiful tree with the beam of moonlight hitting it </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>right made the snow on the branches look like glittering specks. It was still taller than him by a few inches but Steve could see where ornaments would lay, a star would sit on top. The sweet smell of the leaves…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That one,” he breathed in Thor’s ear, turning the man so he could face the tree. “That’s the one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That one?” Odin spat, making Steve cringe. “It’s small and puny. It wouldn’t last until New Years.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it will,” Steve challenges, climbing down Thor in a manner that looked like a spider monkey. “If you tend to it right and give it the love and attention it deserves, it will grow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you don’t understand our traditions, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but we want a large tree. Big. Something that will stand out, not blend in. If-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Father,” Thor hissed sharply, cutting Odin off. His eyes were narrowed, the blue getting lost in the shades of gray that swirled inside of them. He stepped closer, gripping Steve’s shoulder tightly. “If Steven wishes to use that tree we-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steven </span>
  </em>
  <span>can cut that tree down by himself with his flimsy arms and lack of muscles, then we will use it until it dies. Here, boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t even flinch as an ax was tossed at his feet, frowning as the snow was kicked up around him. He couldn’t help but think of how cruel this was to the weapon. Not for him, for himself, Steve didn’t care. Not right now. Right now, he had a point to make.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Picking up the wooden handle, Steve turned the weapon over in his hands. It was longer than his forearms and just as heavy, with a good heavy head. He could see where the years of use had weighed down on it, how the blade had been sharpened over and over. It would still do, especially for a tree this small.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Father,” Thor spoke again with a clap of thunder in his tone. He stepped in front of Steve to stop him from moving. “Stop playing this game. There’s nothing wrong with the tree Steven wishes to get and even so, there’s no rule that we can’t have two trees. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steven…”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He whirled around to find Steve was already gone, marching towards the awaiting tree with nothing but his phone as a flashlight. It barely did anything in this darkness, barely made a pierce through the shadows. It was still enough for him to see by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gripping the blade in hand, Steve squared his shoulders and readied himself for the first strike. He underestimated how hard and heavy it would fall back onto him. He grunted at the first strike, the vibration feeling like it was going to shatter his bones. His jaw ached, even as he gritted his teeth and pulled the ax back. He nearly lost his balance as he threw another strike into the tree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shards of the stump flew everywhere, even causing him to spit some out in his mouth. He could hear Thor yelling, rather it was at him or Odin, he wasn’t sure. His focus was on the tree in front of him. Even if he would be sore for days, even if he couldn’t lift his arms after, or have an asthma attack from the extension this was putting him through, Steve didn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was getting done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t surprise him to find another light beside him. To see Thor beside him, shining light on the tree. His face was tinted red, especially the tips of his ears, and Steve got the feeling this didn’t have to do with the temperature dropping outside. He could hear Odin grunting, over the roaring over his ears. No doubt Thor’s yelling at him overall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do this,” Thor breathed when Steve stopped to take a break. He leaned into the ax he’d lowered to the snow-covered floor. “You don’t have to prove anything to him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I didn’t have to...then he-he wouldn’t challenge me,” Steve complained through his chest-aching huffs and puffs. “I don’t care. I’m going to do it. Maybe he’ll learn to shut up and respect people. Besides...no one else is gonna pick the small tree. I want to give it a good home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Picking the ax back up, Steve found all his strength had been taken from him. He could barely pick it up and swing it. It didn’t mean it was going to stop him. He was more than halfway there. He was so close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking in a gasping puff of air, just to watch it trail around him, Steve’s hand tightened around the wooden handle. It was slick with sweat. He was hot, his coat soaked with sweat. In the back of his mind, it told him this wasn’t good. He was going to get sick, but Steve didn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was seeing this through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was with one final, powerful swing that Steve fell with the blade. He grunted as Thor caught him, the ax sliding down the side of the hill. He watched through blurred vision as Odin stumbled after it, mumbling about no respect towards a weapon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor’s worried, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>proud </span>
  </em>
  <span>expression is the last thing Steve saw before darkness clouded his vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Little one.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Little one, wake up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t Thor’s voice. That was a woman’s voice, soft and fae-like. Music tingling in his ears. Steve slowly blinked until light filled his vision, finding Frigga above him. They were back in Thor’s room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve could barely remember the trek home, most spent wrapped in Thor’s coat. He could remember being stripped of his clothes, a hot bath was shared between the boyfriends and Frigga taking Steve and gently applying balm to bruises over his body, all the while chasing Odin who begrudgingly brought the tree into the house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can barely remember Thor tucking him in and holding him close so they could sleep. It’s not like he wanted to sleep his vacation away, but Frigga’s touch and that sweet-smelling balm, something about it made him exhausted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” Frigga sighed in relief, stroking Steve’s hair away from his face. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up. How do you feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should be sore. He should be aching all over, unable to breathe with the threat of some asthma attack near. Instead, Steve found his body so rarely but wonderfully rested. Oh, that was odd. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thor told me what happened,” she continued, using a damp cloth to wipe sweat from his brow. “Please know that I do apologize for how my husband acted. You are welcomed into our family, Steven, rather you prove yourself or not. And quite frankly, you do not need to prove yourself. You are loved here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor was standing beside the bed, kissing Steve’s temple and smiling into his hair. “However stupid your decision was, Steven, you did do as Father had said. You proved him wrong. I told you, mother, Steven is…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve turned to look at Thor, raising his brow. “I’m what? Stupid?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heavens no,” Thor chuckled. “Stubborn. You can’t turn down a challenge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, he had that one right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Odin has been set in his place and he won’t dare to say a word about this at dinner. I’m afraid you missed the decorating of the tree, all but for the star.” Her lips twitched at that idea, but shook her head so fast, Steve thought he’d made it up. “Let’s go eat, hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t help the gasp that overcame him as he was sat at the table. A feast was short to describe what Frigga had laid out. There was the roasted lamb, pork belly, potatoes sliced with seasoning on them, cabbage stew (that made his stomach grumble), homemade and cured sausage links, various fish laid out. Even large </span>
  <em>
    <span>lutefisk </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Thor had his eyes on. Even a large meat cake that Frigga was already cutting. She loaded Steve’s plate up with just about one of everything but it was Thor who insisted he tried a bit of the lutefisk. Steve did try, he tried to be the good guest his mother raised but the taste was not something he could get around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least Thor’s booming laugh and Frigga’s soft expression made him not feel so embarrassed for not liking it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For dessert, Frigga had made lingonberry cheesecake, chocolate cake (that was heavenly and Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>begged </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the recipe for), and the rice porridge Thor had promised. Odin, the entire time sat in silence, picking at his plate. Frigga asked him hundreds of questions about his job at the bakery, how did he and Thor meet, and everything in between. In turn, Steve couldn’t help but question her practices of the herbs, how she tended to them, asking for tips on just about everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time the mulled wine and the rice porridge had come out, he was more than full. He only managed a few bites before Thor was grinning from ear to ear about the almond sliver. Odin simply dismissed himself from the table at that point, claiming he was going to bed, and ignored the fact Thor had won.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’ll get over it,” Frigga promised Steve, squeezing his hand. “He’s like a toddler and doesn’t like to be put in his place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve could see that, but Frigga was right. Odin’s concern was not his, he did as the bastard had said, he proved him wrong, and if he still wanted to pout about it, so what? At least Thor was happy. That’s what matters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After helping clean the table up, Frigga disappeared into the hall closet. She emerged with a small, dusty box, opening it to reveal a handblown, glass star inside. She presented it to Steve with a warm smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking it gingerly in his fingers, Steve turned over the heavy, cool item in his artist’s fingers. He marveled at how when the firelight hit it just right, he could see the little details in the glass, how it seemed to sparkle with light. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This has been in our family for generations, we wanted you to put it on top of the tree. Since this is your first of many Christmases with us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Steve could protest, Thor was picking him up by the underarms to place the tree gingerly on top of the tree. It had been finely decorated while he was out in little ornaments, silver garland, and burlap. It was lit up brightly by lights, and now a bright star sat on top, brighter that Thor had plugged it in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Thor’s soft grunting that caught Steve’s attention. He spun around on his heels to find Thor on his knee behind him, a handmade, wooden box in hand. It was about the size of a book, not the size of a ring box that he was expecting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thor…?” Steve breathed, his eyes wide. “What are you…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Steve…” The large man sighed, nudging the box towards him. “Just open the damn thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, no cussing in front of your mother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not even here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frigga sounded too amused, Steve shooting her a look. She stood in the corner of the room and he couldn’t help but to fondly roll his eyes. What were they planning?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, he took the thick box and was unable to help the gasping noise as he opened it. Inside laid a leather-bound book. A blank paged book, full of handmade paper, and bounded with leather. Something someone took their time and effort to make. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve frowned at the inscription on the first page.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Steven Rogers,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am no artist. I cannot create works of art with my fingers as you do. I can not make people happy with the food - you’ve tried my cooking, it’s shit. You got food poisoning from it. But I can promise you this - that I can try. I can try to create the world in works of art as you do. I can appreciate all that you do and more. I can use your guidance to help the world around me, to better it for others. To give many the helping hand they deserve, that you seem to be the first one to reach out. I can be the supportive boyfriend you deserve.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yet, I am selfish, Steven. I am a selfish man who wants more. I want to share my life with you. I want to give you my love, to give you my thanks. I want to experience the world and its wonders with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to be with you, not as your boyfriend, but your husband.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This book, Mother helped me design. Inside the thick pages are pockets full of her family secrets, our family secrets (if you will have me), and the recipes and lessons, that we will share.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And inside the box, tied to the bookmark straps are two wedding bands I had crafted in the little workshop back home. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All you have to do is say yes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yours always,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thor</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked away the tears that burned in his eyes, clearing his throat. His hand shook as he turned to find the little compartments. He pulled out hand-written note cards that read a recipe for the chocolate cake. Another said how to clean your fish properly. Yet, just as Thor promised sat two perfectly fashioned wedding bands, polished perfectly made of silver. Inside of the band that would fit him said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>my little one. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t stop his tears as he picked up the bands and had enough sense to set the book down. He threw himself at Thor, knocking them both to the floor. Thor’s arms tightened around him, giving a wet laugh into his ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Thor, yes,” Steve breathed, kissing him over and over again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thor cupped his face to get him to stop, giving another wet laugh. “I am glad, my little one,” he whispered, kissing his nose. “Seeing you so sickly and out of it after...after being goaded by Father...it terrified me. I cannot stop you nor your stubbornness and nor do I want to, but I can take care of you and I always want to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of a camera going off made Steve look up, giving a bashful smile to Frigga who dropped down to hug both the boys, </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>boys to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re always welcomed in our family, Steven,” she promised him. “Always.”</span>
</p>
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